Insight: Devil Bird, Baby Bird
by Wrendragongirl
Summary: Names. Such simple things. They mean nothing, but everything. I used to think that they define who you are. But that was yesterday. And every yesterday was once tomorrow, as every tomorrow will be a today.
1. Chapter 1

_**Hello People!**_

_**Enjoy.**_

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Names. Such simple things. They mean nothing, but everything. I used to think that they define who you are. But that was yesterday. And every yesterday was once tomorrow, as every tomorrow will be a today.

Yesterday I was every inch an assasin, helping Grandfather with his mission to... what his goal is, I don't know. But today, I'm not sure who I am. Today, I guess I am Damian Wayne. A simple name, but is it who I am now? And if it is who I am now, then who was I yesterday? Was I Damian Al-Ghul, or was I still Damian Wayne?

Father expects me to follow his code. Mother expects me to obey Grandfather. Grandfather expects me to kill without a second thought. But Father tells me not to kill. So, what should I do? I do not know anymore. I asked Grayson, and he said to follow my heart. He is quite cheesy sometimes, but I think that I like him. He does not expect anything from me.

They all expect me to do things and be like them. What if I were to be normal? Would they all still acept me then? If I were normal, then none of them would argue anymore. That is all I want, for the arguing to end. Why do they insist on being like that around me, about me?

I think that Grayson is the most sensible of them. He said to be who I am. But I don't know who I am anymore. Am I Damian Wayne, or Damian Al-Ghul? Am I my Mother's and Grandfather's obedient assasin, or am I my Father's wild and uncontrollable son?


	2. Chapter 2

"Grayson?" I swept into the untidy room, wrinkling my nose in disgust. He never cleans it, so it smells like old moldy pizza and dark, dank moldy things better left undescribed.

He was sitting at a computer desk by the window, laughing at something with headphones on. I reached over and pulled them off.

"Hey!" Grayson looked rather indignant at me taking his headphones. "Dami, give those back!" He clicked the mouse, then leaned over to grab them back. He looked quite silly with that expression.

"Grayson, I require your opinion for an important matter." I said importantly; Grayson looked unimpressed though.

"Damian, I am not giving you my opinion on anything until you give me my headphones back and apologize." I opened my mouth, then closed it and handed him the headphones.

"I apologize for taking your headphones and interupting your... extremely important video. I did not know that it was more important than me." Grayson took the bait, his facial expression softening immediately.

"Awww, babybird, _nothing _is more important than you." He tousled my hair; disregarding the fact that I hate it when he does that. "Now what did you wanna ask me?"

"Who am I?" Grayson looked puzzled. I sighed. "Mother wants me to be an assasin and help Grandfather, Father wants me to obey his code and ignore Grandfather. So, if yesterday I was an assasin, does that mean that yesterday I was not Damian Wayne? And if I was, then who am I now? Who should I listen to?"

"Dami, your name doesn't matter." I scrunched my brow in confusion, causing Grayson to smile. "Your name is just a title for someone to call you by. It indicates your family to a certain extent, but names don't define a person. Actions do."

Oh. That makes sense. But still, who should I listen to, Father or Mother? Which of my actions define me?

Grayson answered before I could say anything. "The actions in your past are not the ones of your future. You get to choose the ones that you want to let define you. Don't listen to Bruce or Talia; because they are trying to decide what defines you for you." I frowned.

"But still, who am I?" I asked. Grayson smiled and hugged me before I could protest.

"Duh, you're my little brother." He says the most incredibly cheesy things sometimes.


	3. Chapter 3

"Ohhh, Babybirrrrddd!"

I heard the call of the night's wings and froze, well aware that this was not good. Commissioner Gordon, being the imbecile that he is, had the gall to look amused at the stupid nickname. Father seemed to agree with him.

As embarrassing as it was, I attempted to hide behind Fathers' cape; due to lack of a suitable hiding spot on the roof of the police… what do they call it? Headquarters? – but he avoided me. I wished to pull off my mask to use the dangerous weapon that Grayson dubbed the 'puppy dog eyes', but I could not risk my-our- identities.

"Sorry, kiddo, you're on your own. Good luck," Father chuckled, leaning up against the spotlight named the 'Batsignal'-what a stupid name!

Curse you, father. I am to be put to this torture in front of our ally, it seems. I really hope that Oracle has not thought to hack the street cameras and watch this.

"What exactly is going on, again?" I heard Gordon ask. I scowled, scanning the rooftop for any hiding place.

"Nightwing seems to think Robin doesn't get enough hugs. He's been trying to change that."

Blast them all to a million bits! There is no escaping this horrible fate. I resign myself to the horrible torture and turned around, only to find him behind me.

"Gahhh!"

He squeezes my sides, hurting my already bruised ribs.

"Gr-Nightwing, I demand you release me at once!" Father froze at the slip up, glaring at me with all his might. I shivered slightly at it.

"Aww, babybird, but I haven't seen you all day," He crooned. I could feel him smirking.

"Put me down this instance or I will tell Father who was really behind that prank on April Fools day." Grayson, to my satisfaction, loosened his grip slightly, but not enough for me to squirm free.

"Tell Dad who pulled the prank and I'll tell Agent A you know where the cookies are stored." He challenged.

"Tell Agent A that and I'll tell the Flash where they're hidden."

"Tell the Flash where the cookies are hidden and I'll tell Superman who put Kryptonite dust in his coffee the other day."

"If you tell Superman who did that I'll tell Red Hood who hid all his C4 and where it is," I threatened.

"Babybird, if you do that I'll post your baby pictures online, tell Oracle who messed with her computers, I'll tell Lil' Bird who deleted that mission report, tell Dad who hacked the watchtower computers yesterday and caused that panic, tell Agent A who broke that antique tea pot he loved so much, and a bunch of other stuff the League will get really mad about," Nightwing's eyes narrowed a lot.

"The tea pot was an accident!" I protested. I was rather fond of that teapot myself. He must know that I didn't mean to drop it. And the stuff with the watchtower; I was bored! They must know by now to entertain me or face the consequences.

"…How is it that you have my baby pictures?" Those should not be seen by any mortals. I burned all those pictures when I was three!

Nightwing smirked, still hugging me. "I know a guy who knows this other guy who knows a gal whom has a cousin with a friend related to a person who knows your mom. They pulled some strings."

Of course, we both forgot about Father and Commissioner Gordon. Father cleared his throat.

"Now, what's all this about pranks? Nightwing, I thought you said you had nothing to do with April Fools. Robin, if I remember correctly you said you were working on a school project yesterday. I do not appriceate being lied to, and will be sure to tell Agent A about all of the informative information you so kindly provided me. Unless…" He left it hanging in the air and turned to Commissioner Gordon, words crisp and sharp.

"Anything else you need, Commissioner?" Gordon shook his head and retreated inside the building as Nightwing released me.

"We're so screwed; run now?" He whispered to me. I nodded.

"Run now," I confirmed. We both turned and fled the building, attempting to escape the wrath of the night and his butler.


	4. Chapter 4

**_Hey guys, sorry I haven't updated in a while. My life has been very busy, what with school and stuff. _**

**_This chapter is being posted in Tim's and Damian's insight, if you read both of them. Just saying. _**

**_Thank you reviewers, followers, and favouriters! your support means a lot to me._**

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"Drake, I demand you entertain me!"

Tim internally groaned at the shout that echoed through the halls. With school out for the summer and everyone else busy with their own private projects, Damian had no one else to bother. Even Alfred, who was usually quite tolerant of the Demon's behavior, had banned him from the kitchen.

"I'm working. Go bother your animals."

Damian's cat, Alfred, had followed his namesake's lead and made himself scarce, with Titus in pursuit. Which meant Tim had to deal with this on his own.

"Drake, I'm bored!" Tim took even, deep breaths as Damian appeared in the door.

"And?"

"Entertain me." He thought for a moment, remembering Grayson's warning about not being polite. "…Please?"

"…Fine. Here." Tim tossed a book at Damian, who barely caught it. The kid looked at it with unconcealed disdain.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" He sniffed.

"It's a photo album. If Bruce hasn't shown you these, he has utterly failed as a mentor." Tim went back to typing at his computer.

Damian 'tsked' before walking away, album in hand. Tim smirked. Dick would not be happy.

Ten minutes later, Damian was photocopying the images of Dick in the original Robin uniform, with the scaly underoos and bright, flashy colors that Bruce had discouraged but never managed to get rid of.

He had not expected Grayson to be so... unsensible? Without style? Damian didn't even know how to describe it, but he was rather glad. This was solid blackmail.

Drake had some use after all.


	5. Chapter 5

Damian frowned at the sheet of paper in front of him. It looked like something from a magazine; cheap paper with thick, mussed printing. Colors highlighted the edges of it, and at the top in bold letters it said 'Lesson 1.1: Review'.

He knew he had to complete the worksheet, but that didn't stop him from stewing about it. The number two pencil tapped thoughtfully on the desk as the ninja debated on various ways to write out all the answers and still have them be correct. Because really, the math homework was plebian. Whoever designed the curriculum needed to rethink their education.

A thought entered his head and Damian smirked before touching his pencil to the paper and beginning to write.

When Bruce got a call at work from Damian's school, he internally sighed. Not again. At least the woman on the other side of the phone was nice and Bruce managed to flirt with her a little before she got to the point. The principal had requested him to come meet him and Damian in the confrence room after school.

Of course, Bruce had said. I'll see you then.

Well. Hopefully this one wouldn't be as... explosive as the last three.

"Mr. Wayne." The principal rose from his seat as one of the secretaries from the front desk escorted him in.

"Principal Ward." Damian, who was sitting at the table with his arms crossed, scowled.

"So, as I am sure you are aware, we're here to discuss your son's... behavioral issues and, shall we say, the work ethics he displays in class."

"What happened this time?" He pinched the brige of his nose.

"He turned in several homework assignments with incorrect answers, and when his teacher asked why he did so, he replied in a very rude and disturbing manner." Ward's face had the vaguest hint of annoyance and concern on his face.

"May I see the homework?" Bruce extended his hand. The offending piece of paper was placed in his hand, and he began to read through it. The first question, though, caused him to snort with laughter.

"Is something funny, Mr. Wayne?"

"Not at all." the smile vanished, the slightest crinkle at the edge of his mouth giving away that it had been there. "Except for the fact that all the answers on this are, technecally, correct."

"What? No. The answer to number one is seventy-five."

"You're mistaken," Bruce read the question aloud. "Andrea has three crates of bananas and two crates of apples. Each crate contains fifteen pieces. How much fruit does Andrea have all together?"

"No, I am not. Three times fifteen is forty-five, and two times fifteen is thirty. Add them together and you get seventy-five, which, coincidentally, is the same answer the answer booklet gives. What do you have to say to that, Mr. Wayne?"

"Bananas aren't a fruit."

"Pardon?" Principal Ward looked positively befuddled, and usually by now Damian would be cussing the world out but this is just too funny. He's definitely going to do this next time he has stupid plebian homework.

"They're an herb-"

"Which is exactly what I said when I explained my work." Damian cut in.

"-So really, Andrea had thirty pieces of fruit. And, if you look at all his other problems, my son followed the exact same logic there as well. All of his answers are correct. Your book is incorrect, so you cannot penalize him for something that is the school district's fault. Good day." And with that, Bruce got up out of his seat and pushed the chair in smoothly, before sweeping out of the room like a tornado.

Damian smirked at the principal and endulged himself enough to stick his tongue before following his father out the door.

Ward paled considerably at that. That was a threat or he was a donkey.

He wondered, sometime afterwards, if Wayne had taken any law classes in college. That kind of thing shouldn't be possible with a playboy billionaire.


	6. Chapter 6

It was his own mother. Talia. Mother. Stern, aloof, and cold. Especially towards him. And she replaced him. With another, 'better', equally as cold and cruel clone of his father.

Now he knew how Todd felt after he came back from the dead.

He was abandoned, lonely, lost. At least he had Alfred. His feline never abandoned him. Warm, soft, kind. People weren't like that. They all snapped eventually. Maybe that was why Grayson loved animals so much.

It would be easy to stay like this forever, Damian reflected. In a chair by a warm fire with hot chocolate and a cat to keep you company.

He understood why he liked cats. They acted like they were above the world, and accepted a hand to feed them and give them a warm place to stay because they could. At any time they might leave or claw you. Just like him, but they were really dependent on their caretakers as well. They wanted to cuddle, they wanted love, but not to be smothered. They wanted a place to lick their wounds and dump their trash on. Someone to support them and help them up when they fall down.

And that happened to be what Damian wanted, as well. Father didn't do the whole smothering love thing, that was Grayson. Mother didn't provide that at all. With his Father, he had everything including freedom.

With Mother he had everything except freedom and love.

So if she had wanted him to stay she should have been a better mother.

But it still hurt to be replaced, and no matter how much he told himself that it wasn't because he wasn't good enough, it really was.

Damian was weak in his mothers eyes for choosing freedom instead of what she thought was best.


End file.
